


RickFalls Stan

by SerenaDusk



Series: RickFalls Shorts [3]
Category: Gravity Falls, Rick and Morty
Genre: Crossover, Gen, M/M, Mild Language, Rick in Jail, Stan in Jail, Terrible cellmates, criminals, prison break - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:42:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24268387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerenaDusk/pseuds/SerenaDusk
Summary: Stanley Pines finally gets arrested for his dubious ways of handling money. The cops sure seem pleased, but they almost immediately find out that just because they arrested him, doesn't mean he's done. Especially not with this cellmate.
Relationships: Stan Pines/Rick Sanchez (Rick and Morty)
Series: RickFalls Shorts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1716340
Kudos: 25





	RickFalls Stan

**Prison break? Break the prison!**

“Always knew you would end up here. Took you long enough if you ask me.” Stanley Pines tried not to listen to the words of the cop who took him to his cell. It was a familiar face; he’d slashed the tires of his car once to get away from the law. The memory made him grin; those were good times. Sadly, this time he had been caught and now he would have to pay the price, until he managed to get the hell out of there of course. But why, out of every cop in the fucking country, did it have to be this guy who was granted the honour of locking him up? Why the one who had been making it his personal mission to make sure Stan Pines would end up behind bars? He didn’t believe in karma, but it sure felt like this was karma. “I wouldn’t be gloating if I were you, you didn’t catch me, it’s not your win.” He taunted, but the other was seemingly unimpressed. “You’re here and I get to put you away, it’s a win if I ever see one, Pines. God am I happy you’re finally off the streets.” The answer was just as much of a taunt and with that, he was shoved into his cell. “Fuck you.” He told the cop before he sat down on the bottom bunk. The top one was already taken.

“I don’t know who made the decision to make prison jumpsuits fucking orange, but he sure as fuck was drunk off his ass.” Stanley’s cellmate was trying to make conversation apparently, but he wasn’t really in the mood for that, so he didn’t answer. Moments later the other actually got off the top bunk and sat down next to him, not giving a single fuck about whether or not his new cellmate was up for anything. “You know, we’re going to be in this shithole for like 16 hours a day for months if not longer, so you cannot talk to me as much as you want, but let me tell you, that shit gets boring fast.” Stanley looked over with an unamused expression on his face. “I am not planning on staying that long.” He answered and the other laughed. “Good. Neither am I. Now tell me your name before those morons outside try to ‘dehumanize’ us by calling us by our numbers.” He gestured at the cell door with a mocking laugh and Stan couldn’t help but smirk. “Stanley Pines.” He then said, taking a good look at his forced roommate. The other was tall, obviously dressed in the same, violently orange jumpsuit they all wore, hair was a complete mess and only one, thick eyebrow across his forehead. Nice. So far, he thought, he could have done worse when it came to cellmates.

“Stanley Pines? Aren’t you that fraud they’ve been searching for months?” His cellmate seemed amused and maybe a tiny bit impressed. “Is it really fraud when they’re too stupid to realize the numbers are wrong?” Stan shrugged and the other laughed. “But I told you my name, what’s yours?” He then asked and watched the unibrow inmate fold his hands behind the back of his head and leaned against the wall. “Rick Sanchez. I am no television criminal, like you. Just didn’t give enough of a rat’s ass to blow the cops up, so now they put me here and I was just waiting for a good reason to get out of this shithole.” He sounded completely unbothered, causing Stan to raise an eyebrow. “What exactly are you in for then?” He was mildly confused, which only got worse when the other laughed again. “Arson in this case, but it might as well have been theft, fraud, blackmail or whatever the fuck you can think of. Laws are made by people who haven’t seen a third of the things I have. You really think I am going to stick to their rules made to make stupid people believe they contribute to the greater good? Fuck that, I do what I want.”

Stanley had to admit he liked the style of his new roommate. But there was this one thing that did concern him. “You’re waiting for a good reason to get the hell out of here. What kind of reason were you thinking of?” He crossed his arms as Rick looked at him with a hint of disappointment in his eyes. “I thought you were smarter than that, Pines. They’ll eat you alive in here. Tv criminals aren’t popular behind bars. But even if you had not shown up here, I would have waited maybe two or three more days, because I’m getting bored of this bullshit. I mean, what the fuck is the use of stabbing someone who is in the exact same fucking situation as you are? Have some guts and actually stab a fucking guard if you find it necessary to turn violent.” He spoke up and Stanley had to admit the other had a point. It had not helped him once to be an actual wanted criminal. Why would that be any different now that he was caught? No, being well-known would only make him a target to others. The ‘pretty boy’ would have to prove himself once again. Not that he wasn’t used to that, but it wasn’t exactly his favourite part of the day.

Rick’s reasoning that they would eat him alive was a little bit of a stretch. “Sanchez, you haven’t known me for longer than I have been in this cell, don’t make assumptions.” He spoke up. Rick shrugged. “Fine by me, but I won’t correct your nose for you if you manage to break it.” He did sound very uninterested, causing Stan to roll his eyes. “Do you ever fucking care?” He snapped and the other looked at him with a bored look in his eyes. “Never when I don’t absolutely have to. Takes up way too much time.” He pushed himself up from the bed when an alarm sounded. “Well, we’re about to find out if you can hold your own out there, Pines. Time for what they call food in this dump.” He stretched and leaned against the wall until the door finally unlocked. Stanley shrugged and followed his new companion to the chow hall. He might as well, this guy new the crowd and that would certainly make things a lot easier, especially if Rick was as unbothered by the rest of the prisoners as he was by the law and his cellmate.

Everything went quite well actually. Stan did his best to ignore the stares of the other prisoners as he ate, and most of them seemed to walk around Rick for some reason. He wondered what other surprises his cynical cellmate was hiding. So far it almost seemed like Rick was the main bitch of this dump. That would be a great help, but not enough. As always, there would be that one guy who didn’t fucking care. It started with a hand in his neck and a voice like gravel, grunting at him. “You’re in my spot, tv punk.” Stan glanced at Rick who gave him a look like ‘I told you so.’ He wouldn’t interfere, he made that clear already. But the unibrow prisoner wasn’t the only one who wasn’t completely open about what they were all about. Stan got up, ignored the hand in his neck and turned around. From the corner of his eyes he saw the rest of the inmates stare at him and amused smirks on the faces of the guards. He wouldn’t have to count on any help, but he was used to that. “I don’t see your name on it, but if you want, I can paint it with your face.” He spoke up and he heard a few muffled chuckles around him. The gorilla-shaped man who confronted him in the first place seemed vaguely confused. Usually people were scared by now and not intimidating him. Stanley didn’t wait for the moron to realize he had been threatened, but took action.

It was a routine; he’d done it before and it worked better with bigger and dumber opponents. This one might be the worst idiot he ever encountered. His hand shot up, grabbed the man’s collar and pulled it down. He simultaneously stepped aside, forcing the other to let go of his neck. As expected, it felt like tipping over a large stack of barrels. Once the top was out of balance, the whole thing came tumbling down. In this case it meant that the face of the gorilla was neatly planted into the stainless steel bench Stan had been sitting on. Blood shot out of the man’s nose and guards swarmed in, pulling his arms back and dragging him back to his cell. Stanley didn’t protest, he just wanted to prove a point. Rick returned ten minutes after him, laughing his ass off. “That was fucking epic, that bastard’s nose was the size of a beef steak tomato.” He climbed up on his top bunk, but Stan grabbed his shoe. “Not so fast, unibrow. First you tell me how you plan to get out of here before I break more faces.” He spoke and pulled Rick back down.

“Woah there, gorilla tamer, no need to get physical with me. I suggest we teach those idiots a lesson on escaping in style.” Rick slid down from the top bunk because Stan’s grip on his ankle was quite firm. “I’m down, don’t want to repeat that trick every day, at some point they figure out how to stop it and then I’ll have to actually use violence.” Stan managed to sound unbothered now, but it was actually quite a problem if he would have to resort to heavier measures. Solitary was not on his list of things he wanted to try any time soon. “So what’s the plan? And how long does it take?” He smirked and let go of Rick’s boot. “Depends on how much dick they want to try to make us suck. If we’re left alone, we can go in two days. If they bother us too much and we end up with extra guards, three. So keep your pretty mouth shut and we will be tasting sweet freedom before you know it.” Rick smirked and then explained the plan to his cellmate. Stan listened and a grin spread over his face. Either Rick was completely insane, or he was a genius. Or perhaps both, he couldn’t decide. Either way, it would make one hell of a show if it worked. And something told him that it would. And they would go down in history, only to be erased from the records forever.

The next meal was breakfast of the next morning and the tone of the other inmates had changed significantly. Instead of hostility, it appeared that the sudden action had intimidated the others. It wouldn’t last long, it never did. But for now it was enough to ensure a quiet meal, without further incidents that could trigger any heavier guarding. Rick and Stan didn’t try to interact with any of the others, but just silently ate, side by side. Once back in their cell, they spent a good ten minutes complaining about the lack of quality of food in prison, which turned into terrible jokes and backstories of improvised meals while on the run or just simply not home. Stan told Rick about some of his less legal adventures. Rick found every trick used against the law hysterical. “Stick it to them, Pines. Like I said, laws are the fucking backbone of stupidity. Who the fuck cares that you broke that idiot’s nose? He intimidated you, or fucking tried, and you taught him not to in the only way a fucking moron like that would understand.” He smirked.

The rest of the day would follow a rather similar schedule, cracking jokes about prison life, backstories and silent meals in the chow hall. Rick told Stan about some of his adventures away from the planet, at which point Stan asked Rick if he shouldn’t be medicated, since he was talking nonsense. “Oh fuck no, I travel through space. You’ll see once I got my fucking stuff back. I’m sure those useless guards just put it in a vault and I want my portal gun before I leave this shithole behind.” Rick snickered at the expression on Stanley’s face, but didn’t explain further. So the man was insane? Well, couldn’t be worse than having to fight his way through jailtime on his own. One Stan was out of prison, he could always ditch the guy.

The next day he would find that the prisoners were getting more antsy. “You should thank me that we’re getting out of here tomorrow, I don’t think you’d last a week, even with that punch you pack.” Rick remarked after lunch. Stan wiped blood from his upper lip. It was originating from his nose. He’d taken a punch. The other guy was in the medical bay with a broken wrist, which had discouraged the rest of the prisoners again, for now. The guards had tasered Stan for his latest action, so everything tasted like nickels. He didn’t care. “Assholes should be glad I’m getting out of here, before I start snapping necks.” He tried to sound threatening, but Rick just laughed at him. “Don’t start with me, Pines. I’ll make you eat your own intestines.” He replied, earning him a punch against his shoulder, not hard enough to cause anything, so it just made him laugh harder. “I have to say you are less of a deadweight than I thought when they shoved you in here, Pines. Thought I’d have to drag you along because it would be easier than hiding my escape from you, but what do you know, you’re actually fun.” He commented and Stan chuckled. “Hopefully they’ll leave us alone during what the guards call ‘dinner’ or I will never be tasting anything but coins again.” He replied.

They were lucky, and maybe even more than that. Despite the fact Stan got a lot of nasty looks from a few of the more violent groups of inmates, they were left alone. Apparently the pretty boy from tv was more than just that. He could see them mumbling amongst themselves and he knew damn well what that meant. They would be ganging up on him soon. No more ‘polite’ one on one attacks, but a group of them, all at the same time. He could take a punch as well as pack one, but even he couldn’t fight a whole gang at once. Rick was right, he should be grateful for the other getting him out of there by tomorrow. Stanley glanced at his cellmate, who wriggled his eyebrow after looking at the gorilla whose nose Stan had broken. It was still red and swollen, which made him grin a little. The dropped shoulders told him that the guy was taken down a few notches by the humiliation. Always fun to see guys twice his size cower like that, simply because what they called a ‘tiny man’ was able to defeat them. Rick called them brainless idiots. Stan had a theory that their muscles had taken up most of the space in the skull, causing them to think in punches. Rick almost fell off his bed from laughter when he said that.

When Rick was done eating, he toyed with the plastic cutlery, waiting for Stan to finish up. That wasn’t a coincidence. Stan had deliberately stalled finishing, giving Rick the time to shove a plastic knife into his sleeve without anyone noticing. It could have been a spoon too, but Rick had told Stan he didn’t want to show off that much. ‘They’ll never believe it if I use a spoon for this Pines, and I want them to remember what happens when you think you’re smarter than Rick Fucking Sanchez.’ That was what his companion had said and Stan still wasn’t sure if the other wasn’t just nuts. But there was no going back now, it was all set. He finished the last bit of his food and got up, separating the two knives he had used for his food. Brilliant idea; stackable cutlery. This way Rick still had a knife on his tray when he put it back. Nobody would know. Until the show would start of course, but then it would be too late. Back in their cell, Stan looked at Rick as he took the knife out of his sleeve. “I could have just smuggled my spare one with me you know.” He said and the other grinned. “Where’s your sense of humour, Pines? Never watched a movie?”

They got onto their bunks early and Stan supressed the urge to poke the mattress from below to annoy his companion for a while. It wouldn’t be productive, but it would be fun. Instead he just stared at said mattress. “I still think I would survive without you, Sanchez. I don’t need a babysitter.” He said after a short silence. It wasn’t long enough for the other to have fallen asleep yet. “Cute that you still are that optimistic, Pines. You wouldn’t look out of place in a kids show.” The answer came with a snort and Stan rolled his eyes. “Go fuck yourself, Sanchez.” He tried not to laugh. “Fuck me yourself, you coward.” Really? That juvenile answer? Well, he might as well. “I just might, after we get the fuck out of here.” A long silence after that comment. “You got a deal, Pines.” After that, silence, no more talking until very early in the morning of the third day of Stanley Pines’ jailtime. And the last.

Even Rick had to admit they were lucky their cell was that close to the storage of confiscated items from inmates. Just close enough to break into it, subdue the officers on duty in there and make it back to their cell. Yes, voluntarily returning to the place they were locked into after breaking out of it was a weird move. Rick took care of the locks, which took him a minute and a gadget he made from anything he had managed to swipe over time. He said he’d only been there for a few weeks, but the amount of stuff he managed to take would have taken most inmates months, if not longer. How he managed to hide it from inspection was a miracle, but Stanley wasn’t going to ask. He just returned the favour by punching the bewildered guards into walls. By the time they made it back into the cell with their stuff, Rick was laughing almost hysterically. “Fuck, did you see their faces? They think we’re insane! I should do this more often.” He relocked the door and turned to Stan, whose face showed a mix of emotions. He was laughing, but part of him agreed with the guards. They _were_ insane.

Rick didn’t give a shit, so much was clear. He just started unpacking small cubes from his bag of stuff. Stan only had a few simple things and a stash of cash sewn into the lining of his vest. “Whoever searched me should be fired.” He commented, watching his companion place the cubes in the 8 corners of their cell. Outside, the guards were clearly unsure if they should break into a prison cell. It seemed backwards, but those inmates were in possession of confiscated items, which was a problem. But what were an arsonist and a fraud planning to do with that? Set their cell on fire? Unlikely, as it would only kill the two of them. Should they wait until those idiots gave up their stupid plan? It wasn’t even time for breakfast yet. They were bound to get hungry at some point, right? None of them had been prepared for such a seemingly random turn of events. There wasn’t really a protocol for prisoners who locked themselves into their own cells after an attempted prison break.

Right when they decided they would block the door and simply return the favour, eventually forcing the inmates to surrender themselves, Rick set a final gadget on the middle of the floor of their cell. It looked a lot like a joystick. Stan pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, suddenly exasperated. “Are you planning to get us out of here by playing a videogame? Are you fucking kidding me Sanchez? Did I risk solitary for this?” He looked at the other, who just laughed. “Fuck you, Pines. Of course not. Stop being as much of a moron as the others and sit down.” He told, while doing exactly that, on the ground, facing the joystick. Stan did the same, at least he would see something fun before he’d spend the rest of his life in a steel box.

Rick pressed the button on the joystick and a grid of beams shot out of the boxes, turning the cell into some sort of futuristic hologram room box. “Impressive, but VR isn’t getting us out of prison, Sanchez.” Stan mocked the other. Rick just laughed and pressed again. Less than a second later Stan slammed his hands over his ears against the explosions that spread over the edges of the cell. Rick’s eyes flashed with excitement and a mad grin spread on his face. He grabbed the joystick and pushed. Stan could swear he could feel the entire thing move. One glance out the barred window told him it was no illusion. They weren’t escaping their cell, they escaped _with_ their cells. He started laughing. He didn’t know if it was brilliant or insane, but he didn’t care. This was the most hysterical thing he had ever done in his life and no matter what he would face in the future, it couldn’t be anywhere as close as awesome as this.


End file.
